Purple
by chan-sol
Summary: just a drabble of why the color for seddie is purple. Pleas read and review!
1. Sam

**A deeper look into why the color for Sam and Freddie's relationship is purple. Not like what you expect...i hope. Will become an actual story. Thanks for reading! Enjoy! Also be sure to review when finished. is it too melodramatic? Am I overlooking something? Blah, blah, blah...basic reactions. Once again thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly or it's characters.**

Have you ever felt like drowning? That's what life was for Sam. Being in such danger that she embodied it. Hand outstretched towards the surface, where she should be. Above everything, safe. A place where the sun doesn't just shine down on you, it reflects off of your skin. Makes you shimmer like armor. You feel impenetrable, all the while moving endlessly towards the horizon.

Sam Puckett was like ice. At first meet, she's cold, straightforward, but all the while still tangible, still nice. Of course there's more to her. Sam isn't how she appears. Sure, she's tough; she can break anyone and anything that threatens her being. However, even the most transparent things, contain a layer nobody sees or understands.

At the heart of Sam is vulnerability so well hidden; it's possible she doesn't even realize it. But it's there, mocking her. It whispers her name, almost maniacally and taunts the balance of her life, her sanity.

Sam Puckett is fragile. She always seems to morph herself into different molds. At school, she's the badass, the bully tougher then steel and unafraid. On iCarly she's the humorous wild child, a force of energy, an electric current. At home she's the daughter. A misbehaving adolescent that tolerates her mother's antics and is always there to support her tumbles. Sam is a rock for her loved ones. However if anything were to even slightly corrupt her order, and make a hairline fracture in the wall that is her life…Sam doesn't exist. She crumbles like a broken heart. And looses the vibrancy she's always idolized.

There are few people who have ever made it all the way to her core. Each and everyone lucky enough to see it have definitely walked away with some scars. Because Sam doesn't leave memories like most people. Like ice, once she is held there is an overwhelming sensation of bitterness, of strength. It shocks your nerves and all of a sudden burns you. Scorching your hand with a fiery brightness so hot, that every particle is numb upon release. It's magical, and so intriguing you want to feel the euphoria again. However, that opportunity is once in a lifetime. Because once seen, Sam changes colors again. She's a chameleon. Able to change and morph in the blink of an eye. Completely rearrange her appearance, and still hold onto the emotions that make her real.

Of course, with this natural being comes the heartache of her life. Many people wonder how she has made it through an inconstant family, the death and detainment of her relatives, police visits, broken hearts, and even the complete evolution from a perky pageant girl to a ruthless tomboy. However, what they don't realize is that she hasn't made it through. Only appears to have leaped the threatening hurtle. Under all the pressure and strife Sam has melted. Disintegrated by the heat of her tears and left in a shallow puddle of her previous tries. Somehow, she is eventually picked up and reassembled, placed into a new form to face the world once again.

Sam's eyes are a gorgeous blue. They glitter in the sunlight and reflect every jagged piece of the world, while still highlighting the beauty. It's in her eyes, people see how loved they truly are. Because if there's anything Sam loves more then oxygen is the precious diamonds that are her fellow humans. I know it doesn't seem like she cares, after all she mocks and taunts have the people she's introduced to, but they are her world, the fiber and cells that hold her frayed pieces together. To Sam each beating heart is like a god in a temple. It's meant to be appraised and showcased. She has an infectious way of getting to peoples' heart and spotlighting the stars while simultaneously making fun of them.

I hope I've made it clear. Sam Puckett is a cornucopia of juxtapositions and contradictions. She is life and energy running with hurt and rage. She is like the moon. Full one night and the next slim and curved. Although always changing, she is always there. She is Ice. She is Sam Puckett.

She is the blue that inevitably takes part in the creation of purple.

**Please review and thanks for reading!**


	2. Freddie

**Hi, really sorry I haven't updated. I hope you readers don't think I'm some sort of slacker. And to prove so I must give you guys and excuse. My laptop broke and so for two and a half months I was unable to even go on the internet. Luckily I got a new one and am prepared to write a new story for Sam and Freddie. I personally don't like this chapter, probably because I find it easier to go deeper in to Sam's character. Anyways, I have a story in my head that will come from this story and I want to know if I should bother writing it. So please read and review and tell me if it might be a good idea. Thanks for reading!**

**P.S. There is no IOMG kiss in this, just their first kiss.**

Fredward Benson. Nice guy, good looking, honest, smart...perfection. He was the exact polar opposite to Samantha. She was ice, right? Well Mr. Benson, he was fire. I know, unexpected. Freddie? Flame? Dangerous, passionate,** hot** flame? Yes.

Freddie was all of those adjectives. Passionate, he loved life and all of the imperfections which had tagged along. He was exuberant to live everyday, without worry, without trouble, to just breathe through the mornings and glide through the hours. Especially when they included his two best friends.

They were the very sound of his laughter, that bubbled in his throat and floated through the air like clouds, dancing to the merriment that usually surrounded the three. He loved them. He protected them. Even when they denied his offer and protested their distress. Freddie would orbit them and prepare to explode at those meteors that intended on harming such gorgeous and vivacious jewels. He would personally piece every shattered and deformed fraction back together, all so that he could witness their smiles and in return flash his pearly whites like a billboard.

Freddie was hot. Obviously. Most girls had noticed that over the period of puberty he had developed an impressive set of muscles. And no doubt did his voice become more attractive, along with his appearance. But, Freddie was more then that. His personality, that was the source of his "hotness."

Especially to one very important girl. It struck her like lightning, and gave her whiplash that personality. As if the insight to his mind and self all together was a kaleidoscope and with every turn she found a new layer, a new color. The way he could be aggravated and simultaneously concerned that their game had reached it's boundaries, or in a single glance was a lifetime's worth of love and consideration. The manner in which a single kiss could revive all of her nerves and scintillate the sensation of being longed for, lusted for, connected. Of course in all of these emotions and shapes, was the pure thriving danger.

Danger to her already unstable life. Danger to her core which was already convulsing in a series of earthquakes. Danger because she was unintentionally discovered, and...touched.

Freddie didn't realize it then, but that was when his match was truly ignited. Brushed so quickly that a neon orange-yellow light rose and began to devour his heart. The tip would flicker, by the simplest movements. It burned red, like his blood, which would quicken pace, by his thunderous heart, at any small touch from the her. And what was encompassed by the crimson? The tiniest, almost non-existent, shade of sapphire. At the center of Freddie was a miniscule likeness of Sam.

Polar opposites, but so similar in being and style, that it was as if the distance would soon evaporate.

Parallel to Fire, Freddie emitted a warmth. And it invited the most unusual moths. Moths like Melika, Shannon, and even the famous Carly Shay. However, once even slightly contacted by this kind light, the flare revolted in discomfort. Mostly because, it was queasy by their light wings and furious that they were so tangible. No, Freddie needed, yearned for a recognizable counterpoint, a firework that would sound a uncompromisable relation. A relation he would be smacked by and forced to follow until finally capturing it in his hands.

Comparable to a butterfly.

Freddie shined. Always did and always will, probably. He shined, burned, and ignited. He was fire.

He was sweet, sweet, dramatic red.

He was Freddie

And little did he know, that after colliding with Sam, he would create the magical, mystical color of Purple.

**Please review and thanks for reading!  
><strong>


End file.
